


Looking At You

by xenoglossia (oncharredwings)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: (hint: keith likes him back), Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, Pining, Poetry, in which shiro really likes keith and is too afraid to tell him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-02-16 02:05:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13044243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oncharredwings/pseuds/xenoglossia
Summary: Shiro really likes Keith – he had no idea Keith liked him back.You can also read this ontumblr





	Looking At You

**Author's Note:**

> For Sheith Quote Week: Day 1 Prompt
> 
> #He's Looking at Keith

Trying to find the words to describe Keith Kogane was not the easiest task, but Shiro knew he had an entire two hours to do it. Creative writing class hadn’t been his idea, in fact, it was by far the  _worst_  idea Matt had come up with over the last three years while attending Garrison University. 

 _“We both need a creative elective course. This’ll be easy! We don’t have to draw, we can write basically whatever we want and get an A. Easy peasy, lemon squeezy, Shiro_.” 

It had  _not_  been easy peasy lemon squeezy as Matt had thought. 

The class was hard, the professor was a pompous ass, and Shiro had learned quickly he had no creativity when it came to writing anything. The only good thing about the class was Keith Kogane. 

Shiro slowly flicked his gaze over to where Keith sat by the window, his chin pillowed on his palm, and his dark hair thrown up in a messy ponytail. The world softened when he looked at Keith, which was often, always admiring him from a distance, but always too afraid to walk up and initiate a conversation. 

Matt called him a chicken. 

At first, he’d vehemently denied being a wimp or afraid of talking to a -  _really cute_  - boy. However, as Shiro sat and struggled to find descriptors for Keith’s  _everything_ , he realized with anguish he was absolutely 100% without a doubt a giant chicken. The chicken they’d consumed last night from  _China Dragon_  was less of a chicken than him. 

Shiro sighed and set his pencil down, glaring at his blank piece of paper. The assignment was to write a poem and his immediate thought was to write something about Keith since he was the most stunning thing in the room, but words continue to fail him. 

Keith wasn’t writing either, Shiro noticed, his gloved hands were completely still on his desk and where the other propped his head as he stared out the window. It was starting to snow outside, while students hurried to and from classes to escape the cold. He wondered what Keith could be thinking about. 

Maybe he was thinking about what to write, much like Shiro was doing or maybe he was considering what to do after class or what he was doing during winter break. Maybe Keith was thinking about what to eat for lunch or that he would rather be anywhere but sitting in the classroom. 

The time seemed to slip by and Shiro had nothing written on his blank piece of paper. When the professor announced they only had ten minutes left to write, he quickly scribbled something down, even if it didn’t make sense and it was embarrassing and stupid. 

“Time’s up, everyone, turn your papers in,” Professor Iverson said sharply, where everyone began to pass their poems up to the front of the class, where they were collected. 

Shiro stared down at the one line he’d managed to write before passing it forward, his face completely red. 

_I like looking at you._

The only thing he’d managed to write and if Iverson decided to read them out loud, he prayed Keith had no idea it was about him. That was the last thing he wanted. 

Iverson did read some of the poems out loud, picking at random, until he paused and started to read one that caught Shiro’s attention. 

“ _People say that love comes to you and sings a sweet song, drawing you in (helpless)_  
_People lie._  
_Love doesn’t skip along and drag you by the hand (needless)_  
_Love slams into you and takes you for all you have, robbing you at gunpoint and holding you hostage until it_  
_breaks you_  
_Love isn’t candy technicolor_  
_Love_  
_Is - the color of storms_  
_Love_  
_Is - a white shock_  
_Love_  
_Is - inky black hands scraping my insides dry_  
_Love_  
_Is - you looking at me_

_and I feel (helpless)”_

Iverson set the poem down as quickly as he had the others, as if it wasn’t the most beautiful thing Shiro had ever heard, as if he didn’t know who had written it. Keith was still staring out the window, but Shiro  _knew_  Keith had written the poem. The words were too strong, too powerful for Shiro to believe anyone else had written them. 

“ _I like looking at you_.” 

Keith perked up and turned his head, their eyes accidentally meeting from across the room. Shiro felt his face turn extremely red, but Keith’s cheeks were also flushed. Did he know? Did he know that was his pathetic excuse at poetry? 

When Iverson read the last poem, he dismissed the class, telling them to continue writing more poetry, they owed him ten by the end of the week. Everyone was eager to escape into the hallway, bundling up as they walked. Shiro debated on hanging back, waiting for Keith, but Matt was prompting him to get the lead out of his ass, so he followed him out into the hallway. 

“So, which one was yours?” Matt asked as he held open the door for Shiro to follow him outside. 

He paused before following, turning to see if Keith had followed, but there was no sign. Disappointment flooded him, but Shiro followed Matt out onto the icy steps, where Matt almost slipped and fell more than once. 

“Christ!” Matt exclaimed, using Shiro to keep from falling on his ass. 

“You okay?-.” Shiro cut off when someone slid behind them and bumped into him hard enough to almost knock him flat on his face. The person who had run into him grabbed the back of his coat and soon they were both crumpled on the stairs in a heap. 

Matt gasped, as he’d finally managed to get down the steps without killing himself. “Fuck, Shiro, you okay?” 

Shiro nodded, slowly sitting up, half turning to see who had caused the accident. A shock of black hair made him suck in a sharp breath. Violet eyes stared back at him, Keith’s face fully flushed from the cold. 

“Sorry, Shiro,” he whispered, rubbing his palm on his thigh, trying to get up. “Slipped.” 

“It’s- it’s okay-.” Shiro couldn’t help but stammer around Keith, almost falling all over again when he tried to stand, the only thing keeping him from doing so was Keith grabbing his jacket again. “Jesus, they need to salt these or something.” 

Keith chuckled, slowly easing the stairs with him, his hands still buried in Shiro’s puffy coat. “Yeah, no kidding.” 

“So- um- did your poem get read out loud?” Shiro asked casually, trying to pretend he didn’t know who had written the  _one_. 

“Did yours?” Keith returned smoothly. 

Damn, Kogane was good. 

Shiro coughed and rubbed the back of his neck with embarrassment. “Mine wasn’t really a poem, just a- a sentence.” 

A smile pulled at Keith’s soft lips. “Mine was okay.” 

“Hey, guys,” Matt said, waving his arms around. “It is freezing balls out here, do you think we could move this little pow-wow somewhere  _warm_? Like the cafe?”

“Yeah, sure Matt,” Shiro said, still looking at Keith. “You want to come?” 

Keith nodded, wrapping his scarf around his face. “Yes,” he said, the sound a bit muffled. 

“Guys!”

“Coming, Matt.” Finally managing to stop staring, Shiro fell into step with Keith behind Matt, following him carefully down the sidewalk toward the library’s cafe. 

“Shiro,” Keith said, pulling the scarf from his mouth. 

“Yeah?” 

“I like it when you look at me, too.” 


End file.
